Post by mcswooney on Mar 5, 2006 4:02:01 GMT -5
It hadn't worked.
She had gotten her purse, made the phone call, and it was all to no avail.
Joe Riesert, having fallen asleep in front of the TV, failed to notice his phone wasn't on the hook after the last call and disconnect - and so when the frantic message from his daughter came in, telling him to get out of the house, he had never heard it. It had gone directly to the internal voicemail through their carrier, and not to the machine in the house.
Lisa wept in vane, clutching her purse and cellphone to her chest after hanging up. Her Dad never checked the voicemail through the service, he didn't even know the pass code which to retrieve it.
Foiled again. She shuddered thinking about what method of revenge Jackson would take this time.
Well, she guessed she should compose herself and make her way back to the evil sitting in 18 F. He would most likely exact something vicious on her, or her father -- her knees buckling at the thought.
Taking a deep breath, Lisa decided that desperate means, called for desperate measures.
It was ludicrous to expect Jackson to believe that she had never tried to make a call, but lie she would, and straight to his face...hoping beyond hope, that something in him, would be able to show mercy and want to believe her.
She opened the door, and idled by the flight attendant, smiling gratefully again at the older lady who had tried to help by bringing her her purse.
Putting one foot unsteadily in front of the other the whole way back, she saw Jackson's shoulders tense at her approach. What would he do this time? Would she get another blow to the head? Maybe he'd crush her hand in a bone crushing grip out of view of the other passengers. It would most likely be something that was again, discreet, painful and punitive -- something designed to teach her a lesson.
She stood by his seat, head down, not looking him in the eye, waiting for him to stand up, move aside, and then of course, the inevitable wrath.
Jackson sharply looked up at her, Lisa's eyes now catching his at the sudden movement. His flinty gaze was so hot and vicious, that Lisa quickly took a step back from it and bumped into the seat opposite theirs. His icy glare sliced through her warm soft grey gaze like a knife -- and then glanced down again, as he visibly and obviously restrained himself from leaping at her. His raging eyes promised hell.
Lisa swallowed, her rapidly pounding heart making the tendrils of the hair on her head actually shake. She decided pride would go before the fall, and did her best to appear the somewhat chastened apologetic party.
Taking a deep breath, chest heaving with slight indignation, she said softly, hushedly, yet firmly, "I told you I needed my purse," her face flaming w/ hot rage at having to pretend female weakness.
Jackson watched now as the bright color fluctuated across her delicate features, and wondered in that moment if he had gotten it all wrong -- perhaps it hadn't been a ruse, and she really did need her purse?
That mortified blush sure seemed to be telling the story.
No! Jackson's jaw clenched repeatedly with renewed anger, much of it at his own reaction to her - he was no gullible novice to be brought down by some sweet faced innocent act. He rolled his shoulders, preparing to do battle and get this show on the road. He scoffed at his flights of fancy where this girl was concerned.
Everything about this job was unfamiliar territory to him, mostly, because he was not unaffected by Lisa. She got to him in ways he hadn't even begun to name. He was wary of believing her story because he was learning very quickly that she could be as cunning and deceitful as they come.
He shot up out of his seat to let her back into hers, and rather than stepping out into the aisle, he decided to let her sidle by him in the narrow confines of their seats, wanting yet another intimidating physical encounter to put her in her place.
He stood there looking down at her with a contemptuous glare as she lowered her head wondering if she should face him or not as she moved by. She decided face to face wouldn't be such a good idea.
Jackson raised his brows as if to say 'what are you waiting for,' relishing her discomfort. There was very little room in which to move. Lisa swore she could almost see him licking his chops.
She'd have to do it quickly she thought, as she turned her back to him, and began to squeeze by. Just as she stepped in, she felt his chest lean into her, and his belt at the small of her back. Lisa's shoulders tensed with anxiety, her eyes huge in her face at the contact.
Jackson's breath ruffled her hair - he had actually stepped even closer to her! Lisa's voice was hoarse, as she muttered, "Excuse me," under her breath.
But Jackson's lips were at her ear now, and at that moment she simultaneously felt his long fingers strongly clasping her waist, and pulling her even tighter against him.
Teeth imperceptibly scraped the top of her ear, and she gasped, "Jackson please." Making the mistake of quickly turning to face him - she was immediately caged by his arms.
"Let go of me," she stormed softly, quaking in her shoes and shooting daggers at him.
He was enjoying this, smirking lasciviously and watching the emotions play across her face - that's when it occurred to him that for the 15 minutes she was gone from the intimate cocoon of their seat which had been fraught with violence, hate and turbulent emotion, he had missed her.
It was this realization that made him see hot red all over again as a fresh wave of rage, frustration and impatience washed over him.
He jostled her a bit and almost dumped her in the seat next to him, steadying her slight form by grabbing her arm in a brutal hold, Lisa winced at the pain, and fresh tears started.
"God*** YOU - let GO of me," Lisa said under her breath ferociously. At that moment, the experienced hard-bitten flight attendant chose to walk up to them.
Not wanting the knowing attendant to suspect their difficulties were anything more than a lover's spat -- Jackson instinctively pulled Lisa close, and his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck held her still while he ravaged her mouth. The attendant, once again, grimaced in disgust at the randy couple, shook her head and continued on down the aisle.
At the first press of his lips against hers, Jackson felt a lightening bolt shoot through him, his stomach fluttering and his body heat soaring, he almost gasped into her mouth.
Lisa, tears already rolling at the painful grip on her arm, almost fainted at feeling Jackson's mouth bite into hers. His rough stubble abraded her soft skin and she wondered at the passion and desire emanating from him. She found herself tentatively responding to his forceful kiss.
The attendant had long since passed, when Jackson finally released her, breathing harshly, his heavy big lids, were half mast with desire. Lisa not unmoved herself, looked up at him dismayed...
"God, eat her face why dontcha'," a disgusted 11 year old Rebecca muttered, peaking through the seats at these very odd behaving grown-ups.
________________________________
To be continued....
She had gotten her purse, made the phone call, and it was all to no avail.
Joe Riesert, having fallen asleep in front of the TV, failed to notice his phone wasn't on the hook after the last call and disconnect - and so when the frantic message from his daughter came in, telling him to get out of the house, he had never heard it. It had gone directly to the internal voicemail through their carrier, and not to the machine in the house.
Lisa wept in vane, clutching her purse and cellphone to her chest after hanging up. Her Dad never checked the voicemail through the service, he didn't even know the pass code which to retrieve it.
Foiled again. She shuddered thinking about what method of revenge Jackson would take this time.
Well, she guessed she should compose herself and make her way back to the evil sitting in 18 F. He would most likely exact something vicious on her, or her father -- her knees buckling at the thought.
Taking a deep breath, Lisa decided that desperate means, called for desperate measures.
It was ludicrous to expect Jackson to believe that she had never tried to make a call, but lie she would, and straight to his face...hoping beyond hope, that something in him, would be able to show mercy and want to believe her.
She opened the door, and idled by the flight attendant, smiling gratefully again at the older lady who had tried to help by bringing her her purse.
Putting one foot unsteadily in front of the other the whole way back, she saw Jackson's shoulders tense at her approach. What would he do this time? Would she get another blow to the head? Maybe he'd crush her hand in a bone crushing grip out of view of the other passengers. It would most likely be something that was again, discreet, painful and punitive -- something designed to teach her a lesson.
She stood by his seat, head down, not looking him in the eye, waiting for him to stand up, move aside, and then of course, the inevitable wrath.
Jackson sharply looked up at her, Lisa's eyes now catching his at the sudden movement. His flinty gaze was so hot and vicious, that Lisa quickly took a step back from it and bumped into the seat opposite theirs. His icy glare sliced through her warm soft grey gaze like a knife -- and then glanced down again, as he visibly and obviously restrained himself from leaping at her. His raging eyes promised hell.
Lisa swallowed, her rapidly pounding heart making the tendrils of the hair on her head actually shake. She decided pride would go before the fall, and did her best to appear the somewhat chastened apologetic party.
Taking a deep breath, chest heaving with slight indignation, she said softly, hushedly, yet firmly, "I told you I needed my purse," her face flaming w/ hot rage at having to pretend female weakness.
Jackson watched now as the bright color fluctuated across her delicate features, and wondered in that moment if he had gotten it all wrong -- perhaps it hadn't been a ruse, and she really did need her purse?
That mortified blush sure seemed to be telling the story.
No! Jackson's jaw clenched repeatedly with renewed anger, much of it at his own reaction to her - he was no gullible novice to be brought down by some sweet faced innocent act. He rolled his shoulders, preparing to do battle and get this show on the road. He scoffed at his flights of fancy where this girl was concerned.
Everything about this job was unfamiliar territory to him, mostly, because he was not unaffected by Lisa. She got to him in ways he hadn't even begun to name. He was wary of believing her story because he was learning very quickly that she could be as cunning and deceitful as they come.
He shot up out of his seat to let her back into hers, and rather than stepping out into the aisle, he decided to let her sidle by him in the narrow confines of their seats, wanting yet another intimidating physical encounter to put her in her place.
He stood there looking down at her with a contemptuous glare as she lowered her head wondering if she should face him or not as she moved by. She decided face to face wouldn't be such a good idea.
Jackson raised his brows as if to say 'what are you waiting for,' relishing her discomfort. There was very little room in which to move. Lisa swore she could almost see him licking his chops.
She'd have to do it quickly she thought, as she turned her back to him, and began to squeeze by. Just as she stepped in, she felt his chest lean into her, and his belt at the small of her back. Lisa's shoulders tensed with anxiety, her eyes huge in her face at the contact.
Jackson's breath ruffled her hair - he had actually stepped even closer to her! Lisa's voice was hoarse, as she muttered, "Excuse me," under her breath.
But Jackson's lips were at her ear now, and at that moment she simultaneously felt his long fingers strongly clasping her waist, and pulling her even tighter against him.
Teeth imperceptibly scraped the top of her ear, and she gasped, "Jackson please." Making the mistake of quickly turning to face him - she was immediately caged by his arms.
"Let go of me," she stormed softly, quaking in her shoes and shooting daggers at him.
He was enjoying this, smirking lasciviously and watching the emotions play across her face - that's when it occurred to him that for the 15 minutes she was gone from the intimate cocoon of their seat which had been fraught with violence, hate and turbulent emotion, he had missed her.
It was this realization that made him see hot red all over again as a fresh wave of rage, frustration and impatience washed over him.
He jostled her a bit and almost dumped her in the seat next to him, steadying her slight form by grabbing her arm in a brutal hold, Lisa winced at the pain, and fresh tears started.
"God*** YOU - let GO of me," Lisa said under her breath ferociously. At that moment, the experienced hard-bitten flight attendant chose to walk up to them.
Not wanting the knowing attendant to suspect their difficulties were anything more than a lover's spat -- Jackson instinctively pulled Lisa close, and his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck held her still while he ravaged her mouth. The attendant, once again, grimaced in disgust at the randy couple, shook her head and continued on down the aisle.
At the first press of his lips against hers, Jackson felt a lightening bolt shoot through him, his stomach fluttering and his body heat soaring, he almost gasped into her mouth.
Lisa, tears already rolling at the painful grip on her arm, almost fainted at feeling Jackson's mouth bite into hers. His rough stubble abraded her soft skin and she wondered at the passion and desire emanating from him. She found herself tentatively responding to his forceful kiss.
The attendant had long since passed, when Jackson finally released her, breathing harshly, his heavy big lids, were half mast with desire. Lisa not unmoved herself, looked up at him dismayed...
"God, eat her face why dontcha'," a disgusted 11 year old Rebecca muttered, peaking through the seats at these very odd behaving grown-ups.
________________________________
To be continued....
